


The Sweetest Thing There Is

by pinkolifant



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6465811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkolifant/pseuds/pinkolifant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ficlet written months ago for the SanSan Russian Roulette on LJ which I forgot to post here. I got a prompt from the SnowWhiteKnight demanding "heated, but still friendly, discussion between the two, over the pros and cons of a particular hobby/item/person (i.e. Getting into fights lemon cakes/computers, Tommen). Can one convince the other of the pros?"<br/>The challenge required to make it in 500 words. Don't know if I made it heated, but I made something. The title tells you clearly which cannon hobby of his they are discussing ))<br/>More fluff than anything for the rest ))</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Thing There Is

Sharp knives slashed her tummy. 

 

On the roof, above the burning city, Sansa fought the urge to bend over from pain. Battle with Lord Stannis would come soon.

 

And the Hound was mocking her. 

 

"Killing is the sweetest thing that is," he affirmed.

 

Sansa always tried to treat Sandor Clegane with courtesy, but she couldn't stand his scorn tonight. Her lady's patience was ruined by the pain that ravaged her innards, squeezing them into a hurtful tangle.

 

"Killing is not  sweet at all," she claimed passionately, forgetting her courteous demeanour. "It is ugly and vile!"

 

“It brings joy,” he spat, “Didn’t your father tell you? He took part in the siege of Pyke with King Robert. He found joy in snapping the necks of the ironborn as much as I did.”

 

“He had to do it,” Sansa contraried vehemently. Father acted with honour in war. “He was bound to answer the king if His Grace called the banners.”

 

“I saw him, girl, you didn’t. He liked to cut men down, as did I. Killing makes you strong.”

 

“Killing can’t make you strong,” Sansa interrupted, disagreeing. “Only the gods can do that!” 

 

She didn’t know if that was true but it sounded as if it might be.

 

The Hound paced up and down. Suddenly, he launched more arguments at her.

 

“Did you not want to snap Joffrey’s neck in two? Wouldn’t that be  sweet? ” he sounded devious.

 

On one occasion she did find joy in that wish. Flabbergasted, she looked down. Lying still didn’t come naturally to her, after all the time of denying her traitor family in the court.

 

“You did, didn’t you?” he said in a changed, victorious rasp. “I win. A man who wins a joust is entitled to a reward.”

 

Sansa was at a loss. They had a  squabble,  and now he wanted a reward?

 

“What do you want?” she asked brusquely. Septa Mordane would have scolded her for rudeness.

 

“You tell me. You love the songs.”

 

A kiss,  she realised. Ladies rewarded true knights with kisses for their victories.

 

His grey eyes challenged her, sullen and angry, wandering from her too tight bodice to her face. She was less afraid of him when he looked up. So she stood on tiptoes, balancing precariously in her slippers. He appeared… uncertain?

 

Fast as a bird flying she pulled him down and kissed him. Before she hopped away, he captured one of her lips with his own. Sansa wrenched herself free. It was improper. And yet...

 

Her tummy kept twisting, from many sorts of pain.

 

“You are right, ” he said in a heated tone. “Killing is vile. There was nothing sweet in killing that butcher’s boy.”

 

“I win?” Sansa asked in disbelief.

 

He cocked his head to his burned side. His once angry eyes appeared… expectant.

 

“A lady also deserves a reward,” Sansa said slowly.

 

No song said so. She wanted to tell him that.

 

His second kiss engulfed her.

  
And her victory was the sweetest thing there was.


End file.
